[1] Starting A Family: Conception

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#1 of Starting A Family

"A husband draws his wife into his dark fantasies, and they create a new future based on them." This isn't going to be entirely a happy story.

This piece is largely unedited, though I may end up posting more raw documents instead of getting bogged down with editing. If I find a proofreader, that'd be great, but I'm unsure of my ability to do that without a source of income to sustain it. Who knows.

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Word Count: 1,552


"You... What?"

A pregnant pause permeated the air between Melissa and her husband, Deacon. The vixen took a half-step backwards from her todd, and all he could do was avert his eyes in shame.

Deacon had just revealed to his wife of five years his deepest and darkest secrets: a sexual attraction to young girls and a small stash of videos depicting others with the same. He had nothing else to say to her as she simply turned and left. He sent her a text message that said "Sorry," but he heard Meli's phone chime in the kitchen.

She walked for a long time, first aimlessly wandering their neighborhood until she passed by a family of horses, a mother and a father who walked with their daughter swinging between them, and then she took to the paved path that was carved through the surrounding woods. It was early evening, and Melissa was thankful that most families ate dinner around then. Thinking the word "family" made the vixen choke up.

The two had met in their sophomore year of high school and fell immediately in love. They supposedly lost their virginities to each other at senior prom, but it was a lie at both ends. Neither knew it yet, but they were on either side of the same childhood trauma: Deacon had raped his little sister, and Melissa had been raped by her older brother.

Back at their home, Deacon had retrieved his special whiskey and started to take long, hard draws from the bottle. Entirely certain that his wife would leave him and call the cops, and with the lack of inhibition, he turned to the encrypted vault on his hard drive. The other furs he watched there wouldn't judge him for his attraction to cubs, not while they participated in the abuse themselves. He didn't skimp on the lube, and he didn't bother keeping the volume down or putting on earphones.

After they bought their house, a two-story, four bedroom-two bathroom duplex in a new suburb, Melissa began to get pushy about having a kid. "We've been married for how long now?" "Come on, that guest bedroom never gets used!" The mare's inability to take "no" for an answer was both a blessing and a curse.

Nearly two hours had passed before Melissa returned. The first thing she heard was the overexcited grunting of a male in the throes of climax. After they died down, she could hear distressed whimpering of a girl and the encouragement of an unknown male, but the words were very familiar to her: "That's it, Daddy loves his little girl, Daddy's almost done..." Another round of climax sounds ensued.

In his office, Deacon had a towel that was well-soaked with cum by now. Melissa's eyes were wide as saucers as she spied the scene of a fox girl with her rump up, tail aside, and sphincter that gaped as a todd rested his throbbing erection across it. The words had spurred a trained response of arousal in Melissa, as those exact words were what her husband used during their rougher sessions of sex. The images on the screen angered her, but anal had recently become a guilty pleasure of hers, both witnessing and receiving it.

There was something else buried in this complex web of emotions, though. The thought of her brother revolted her and often brought her to tears. A few even dribbled down her cheek now. Regardless, that same revulsion suddenly fanned her flames until it felt like she was in heat. She stood silently for several long moments, mouth agape. Thoughts swirled through her head at a blurred pace.

"Deacon?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

"Meli?" he gasped as he drunkenly swung his limbs at his computer. First he turned the volume up, then he made it larger before it actually ended and closed automatically. Afterwards, they stared at each other with Deacon's knotted penis covered by his cumrag.

"Meli, I'm so sorry, I--"

"Deacon, I... You use those words with me..." She gripped the door frame tight as she leaned against it. "They always make me so horny." Her other hand undid her pants and dipped into them, then emerged with far more moisture than either of them could've expected. "I... I want to have a baby with you," she stated firmly as she looked from her drenched digits to her husband.

Earlier today, that wouldn't have been such a surprise. Deacon dropped his jaw and stared at his wife.

"You... What?"

Words had done little to improve the situation as of late, so Melissa's body sprung into action before she could change her mind. She removed her pants and underwear entirely in the doorway and left her shirt and bra on. An unknown force urged her forward until she sat in her husband's lap and kissed him harder than she ever had before. Their teeth clicked together while her sopping canine vulva pressed against the towel that separated their sinful genitals.

Deacon's hands raised in confusion and defense at first, but his shock was disarmed by the lust that his wife expressed. After she nipped his tongue, his hands suddenly came down and seized her exposed ass to pull her crotch tighter against his. They sat there and ground against one another. Minutes passed before they separated, each gasping for air.

"Melissa, I--" Deacon started, but he was silenced with a quick smooch. Then she reached over to the desk to take several long pulls from the whiskey bottle to numb her nerves before continuing.

The vixen looked down and shifted her hips to toss away the todd's cumrag. Melissa refused to take birth control, and they didn't have a condom handy. Deacon was too drunk and too confused to care about the lack of protection as familiar snug warmth accompanied by an unreal amount of natural lubrication dove down his length. They shared a groan that echoed throughout the entire house, and immediately they were at it like the foxes they were.

Deacon's legs spread to brace against the carpet and prevent them from falling over or scooting wildly. Melissa's hooked around the backs of her man's knees and used the grip to bounce herself with incredible zeal. It only took a dozen pumps before Deacon found her cadence and joined in with thrusts, which increased the volume not just of the wet slaps but their blissful calls as well.

Despite his efforts to keep them steady, the sex was too frantic and the chair ended up slamming against the desk. He threw an arm out to prevent anything from falling over and managed to reopen the same video his wife had walked in on him watching the end of. The whimpers of a little girl being held down started to blare through his speakers. Briefly the couple paused to look at the screen and then each other. Then Melissa kissed Deacon hard again while she ground herself on the already-swollen knot.

The pressure on his sensitive gland, even if it wasn't the full-encompassing ecstasy of a full tie, drove Deacon wild. He wasn't a well-built fox by any means, and in fact carried just a little extra on his belly, but surging testosterone allowed him to lean forward with his wife and carry her to the ground. There, he pounded her in a mating press with the intention to live up to the position's name. He wasn't able to complete the tie, but the ferocity and taboo of the act brought them to a shared climax.

Deacon withdrew himself after the oversensitivity of an orgasm allowed him to, though he stayed wrapped up and smooching with his wife while they listened to the sounds of the little girl being abused. Once the video was over, he withdrew himself completely from Melissa and helped her stand up. Without meeting each other's eyes or saying a word, they parted ways to clean up, Deacon with his rag and Melissa off to the master bathroom.

The gravity of what had just occurred hit both of them simultaneously, and they sunk to their knees, one in the shower and one still in the office, and they cried.

While Melissa showered upstairs, Deacon took his own downstairs. They reconvened in the living room a little more than an hour later, neither having really done much washing in their time besides rinsing. They sat together on the couch, Melissa's head rested on her husband's chest.

Deacon spoke first after yet another long silence. "Are we okay?"

Melissa shrugged. "This has been... a lot."

"You can't say you're innocent anymore, though." Melissa frowned. He was right.

"I know. But... what if I get..." She trailed off.

"What if I..." He trialed off too. Melissa felt a throb in her loins from the idea.

They sat together in silence again and just held one another.

Nine months later, their little Samantha was born. In that time, the couple shared many a viewing together. Melissa had a taste of cub, and she had been infected with the evil desire. They had agreed to participate together in their child's sexual development. They could make sure it would be done right. Melissa's only caveat was that Deacon not engage alone, and the same would be expected of her.